What Friends Are For
by porkeepine
Summary: -Troypay- Chad's just been diagnosed with a fatal illness. He asks Troy to do the one thing that can make all the pain go away... murder him. Now, Troy is left to care for Chad's widow... but as his relationship with her builds, so does his guilt.
1. Trailer

**Trailer**

_**"What Friends Are For"**_

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**This is a story I plan to write in the near future. Read this and be sure to tell me what you think of it!**

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_Titles_-_ Italics_

Setting- Regular

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_It was a question no one should have to answer..._

Chad sits on a window seat, facing Troy. He looks Troy in the eyes.

"Will you kill me?" he asks. Troy's eyebrows shoot up in shock.

_It was a favor no friend should have to do..._

Troy trembles as he holds up the pistol, aiming it at Chad.

He squeezes his eyes shut and pulls the trigger.

_It was a funeral no man should have to attend..._

Troy sits next to a sobbing Sharpay in a chapel, Chad's casket in front of them.

"Who could have done this?" Sharpay turns to Troy. "What monster would do this to my husband?"

Troy buries his head in his hands and sighs.

_It was a scar nobody should have to heal..._

Troy holds Sharpay, comforting her as she cries into his shoulder.

_It was a love no man should feel guilty for..._

Troy and Sharpay sit on a couch, his arm around her.

She leans in to kiss him, and he hesitates.

"There's something I need to tell you," he says quietly.

_It was a truth no person should be forced to confess..._

"What's wrong?" Sharpay asks.

_Troy Bolton_

Troy stutters, "I..."

_Sharpay Evans_

"Just tell me!" Sharpay demands.

_A FanFiction By Sami_

"I killed Chad."

_Summer 2008_

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**So Troy and Chad are best friends, and Sharpay is Chad's widow, in case you didn't catch on.**

**I don't usually like doing trailers, but I had this idea, and I wanted to know how many people I could get to listen to it. I think it's pretty good. It won't be as soap-opera-y as I'm sure it sounds.**

**_IMPORTANT NOTE_: I will write this _now_ if you guys want it more than 'What Happens In Vegas.' If you want me to finish WHIV first, let me know and I'll write this one over summer vacay. If you haven't read WHIV, it'd be really great if you could go read that (it's only one chapter long), and let me know if you like that story or this story more. I'll eventually write them both either way, so it doesn't really matter to me...**


	2. Chapter 1: Not Done Yet

"_**What Friends Are For" **_

**--Chapter 1 **(Troy's POV)

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_ It's been one of those days for a lot of days now  
I need a day when the world can take care of itself  
This isn't what I wanted how I thought my life would turn out  
And I wonder if it's like this from here on out_

(**Superchick**)

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There are some mornings where you wake up, and you automatically sense that it's going to be a crappy day. And sometimes there's a sign. Like, you sit up in bed and realize your house has been overtaken by a mold epidemic and the walls are turning green and it smells like shit …or something like that. But some days have like, this aura of badness. You just feel it. You may look out your bedroom window and see that the sun's shining and the birds are chirping all happy like a gay Disney movie, but in your head you feel like it might as well be the end of the world.

I opened my eyes one Friday morning and thought this exactly. I rolled to my side and saw little Milo sleeping there, her curly hair tangled around her face. I shook her, trying to wake her up. Her eyes shot open, but she immediately reclosed them to adjust to the sudden burst of daylight.

"Morning, Sweetie," I said, kissing the imprint on her cheek that the pillow had made.

"Morning, Daddy," she groaned.

I climbed out of bed, lifting the six-year-old into my arms. I carried her down the stairs and sat her down on a kitchen chair at the table.

"Is today Saturday?" she asked me.

"No, Honey. It's Friday," I replied.

"Oh," she sighed. "School." I nodded. "And you gotta go to work?" I nodded again, pouring cereal into two bowls and adding milk.

"I'm thinking about sending you over to Miss Nancy's house while I'm at the party tonight. What would you think of that?"

"Ew! No way. Her house smells like fish sticks," she protested, sticking out her tongue to show her disgust.

"Well, you can't come with me. It's grown-ups only."

"Why? What are you gonna do there?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well… Umm… We'll talk about boring grown-up things."

"Isn't it at Chad and Sharpie's house?"

"Her name is Sharpay, and yes it is at their house," I told her, getting annoyed.

"A Sharpei is a dog…" she began. "And anyways, they like it when I go to their house."

"Not this time. This is a party for the people Chad and I work with."

"Well, that sucks."

"Don't say 'sucks'."

"Ugh! Fine, I'll go to the Fish Stick Lady's house," she said.

"Thank you. Now finish eating. Do you want me to drive you to school today?"

"Yes please."

"Hurry up, then," I told her. She took a few more bites of cereal and gulped down a glass of orange juice, slamming it down on the table when she'd finished.

"Go get dressed."

Milo ran up the stairs, and I rinsed out the cereal bowls. I then walked up the staircase and into my bedroom. I opened my closet and picked out a pair of khakis and a polo shirt. I quickly glanced at the empty side of the closet - the one that had once been reserved for Gabriella's things. I slammed the closet door shut and darted to the bathroom to shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I had bathed and dressed. I exited the master bathroom, stepping into my bedroom. On the big king-sized bed sat a very mismatched Milo.

"Hey, Sweetie," I greeted, rubbing my wet hair with a towel. She smiled up at me.

"I'm all dressed," she told me. I looked down at her powder blue Hello Kitty tee shirt that she had paired with a green skirt and red and black plaid knee socks. She'd never been the best at matching her clothes.

"You sure are," I said with a smile. I'd learned to let her idiosyncrasies go, just as she'd learned to ignore mine. "Let's go then. You got your stuff?" She ran out of my room and across the hall to hers to grab her backpack. She proceeded to trample down the stairs. I followed her, and grabbed her nearly-forgotten Hannah Montana lunchbox from the kitchen counter on our way out the front door.

I got to work by 8:03, and when I parked in my assigned parking spot, I let out a long, breathy sigh. The morning had shown no significance yet, but my thoughts remained gloomy. I walked into the Albuquerque Journal building almost reluctantly. I hate my job.

"Good morning, Mr. Bolton," the receptionist greeted.

"Hey, Lindsay," I replied. "Is Chad here yet?"

"Yes, sir. He's in his office," she responded. I nodded, walking away, and Lindsay called after me. " But I think he's kind of busy right now. I wouldn't go in there if I were y--" I had entered the elevator before she could finish. I pressed the button for the floor Chad's office was on and waited until the doors slid open again. I walked down the hallway until I got to the door with a plaque that read _Chad Danforth: Sports_. Ignoring the opportunity to knock, I turned the doorknob and entered the room. Chad was sitting in the chair behind his desk, a topless blonde glued to his face.

"Hey du-- WHOA! Sharpay, what the hell are you doing here!?"

"Hey man, do you mind?" Chad said, trying to shoo me out. Sharpay tried to cover herself as she shuffled to the other side of the room to grab the bra and top she'd apparently discarded there. I covered my eyes while she dressed, and after a few moments I removed my hand from my face.

"Sorry, Troy," Sharpay apologized as she brushed past me, out the door. "See you at home, Baby," she called to Chad. I closed the door behind her.

"Do you know how to knock?" Chad asked me.

"Hey, man it's not my fault. You have all night to fuck your wife. You don't need to do it at work," I told him. "Man, and it's only like quarter after eight."

"Sorry."

"Just be glad it wasn't Todd that walked in, right?" I said, referring to our boss.

"Yeah, whatever. So why'd you storm into my office anyway?"

"Oh, right. What time's the party tonight?" I asked. He thought for a moment before jumping up and leaning into the hallway.

"Shar!" he called. Sharpay was standing in front of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. Her head turned when she heard Chad.

"What?" she yelled down the hall.

"When's the party?"

"Seven to twelve," she replied. Chad shut the door again and turned to me.

"It's from seven to twelve," he said. "And don't even think about bringing Miles." I shook my head. "I'm serious, man. I've got to keep her as far away from Shar as I can."

"Why is that again?"

"Every time Sharpay sees that kid, she decides to try and get pregnant. Milo's sweet, but you know how it is, man."

"Not really, no. Milo's all I really have left."

"Well, you've got me."

"Right. Because you're everything my heart has ever yearned for, Chad," I said sarcastically.

"What are you up to today?" Chad asked, knowing our other conversation was going nowhere pleasant.

"Not much. Obits aren't as exciting as writing your kind of stuff."

"Well, I'm leaving early," Chad said. "Got a doctor's appointment."

"Ah. What for?"

"I dunno. My muscles have been cramping up or something. They did a few tests last week, and I guess the results are in…" he trailed off.

"Think it might be serious?"

"Nah. It's probably just from playing ball with the pros, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah… You mean while you're supposed to be _writing _about them?"

"Hey man, it beats writing crap about dead people. You can't play ball with them, now can you?" he smirked. Chad had always been a huge fan of making fun of me and my lameass job. I wrote the obituaries for the _Albuquerque Journal_. I must say there were days when I would have rather been one of those guys that cleans up elephant shit at the circus. I don't know why I kept my job, other than the fact I had a crappy degree, and it would have probably been extremely difficult to find a better one. I have yet to figure out how Chad Danforth, the most illiterate person ever to graduate high school, got my dream job. Or for that matter, how I got the job he was destined to have.

"Oh, shut up," was my reply.

"Yeah. Nice comeback, dude."

"I try. … But anyway, I have places to go, people to see," I said, turning towards the door.

"I doubt that. See ya later, dude."

I waved my hand at him as I walked out of his office.

* * *

At seven thirty that night, I walked into Chad and Sharpay's house, and my first reaction was to gasp. Lindsay the receptionist was making out with Paul the intern on a cheap card table, Sharpay was dancing on the coffee table to loud Nelly Furtado music, an entire pizza was stuck to the living room wall, and other random people were doing random, bizarre things. It was reminiscent of the old varsity parties back in high school.

I looked around for Chad, but I didn't immediately see him, so I wandered to a big, blue cooler next to the refreshment table and pulled out a bottle of beer.

"Hey, Troy," a voice said from behind me as I cracked open the bottle cap. I turned around, knowing exactly who I'd see.

"Hey, Sharpay," I replied. "You decided to climb down from your living room table? But it looked like so much fun." I teased, thinking she'd get that I was kidding.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I don't even know why I'm so hyper tonight anyways. One second I was chill, and all of a sudden I'm bouncing off the walls."

I chuckled and pointed to the glass bottle in her hand. "Think it could be the vodka?" I asked, completely amused by her level of total drunkenness. She lifted the liquor bottle to her eye level and stared at it, looking utterly puzzled.

"Hmmm…" she mumbled thoughtfully, then looked back at me with an innocent smile.

"Anyway, do you know where Chad is?" I asked her. "I haven't seen him since I got here."

"Oh, he's in the library."

"Oh… Why?"

"He said something about… a headache, maybe?" she replied with more of a question than an answer.

"Um, yeah. Okay. I'll go see what's up with him. See ya later, Sharpay." I left her there, and I stumbled up the spiral staircase, pushing unidentifiably wasted people out of my way.

I walked down one of the two hallways I was met with at the top of the stairs. This level was only slightly less trashed than the downstairs. I passed about four rooms before I came to the library's double doors. The Danforths' library looked like a scene straight from_ Rebecca_ or something. On the wall opposite the door were two massive windows, each draped with its own aubergine velvet curtain. In front of the windows was a fancy antique desk, which for some reason was _always_ stacked with mounds of papers, despite the fact that the library was rarely used at all. On the adjacent walls were rows and rows of dusty bookshelves filled by ancient hardcovers. No one ever bothered to actually clean the library, due to its typical state of emptiness. This added to its stuffy feeling.

I almost left the room just as soon as I'd entered when I didn't see Chad. But then the floor creaked under my weight, and his head shot up from where it had been resting on the desk, hidden by the piles of papers.

"Who's there? Oh, it's just you," he said. He looked terrible and completely disoriented.

"Just me? Oh, well thanks buddy. You always know just what to say to make me feel all special on the insi--"

"Please… Troy. I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm right now."

"Well, then what's up exactly? …Because I came here to see you, not your table-dancing wife," I said with a smirk. I had expected some kind of reaction to that particular comment, whether it be out of humor or frustration, but he just blankly stared at the door across the room, almost as if he wanted me to walk right back through it.

"Sorry. Did you want to be alone or something?" I asked, not feeling as sympathetic as I tried to sound.

"Um, no. I guess it's fine. Actually, I wanted to talk to you."

"O… kay. Am I in trouble?" I asked, finally taking note of his serious tone.

"Yeah. A ton. No. This isn't about you. Don't worry," he said. "It's about me."

"Oh, great. Wouldn't you know it? We get to talk about _you_. Again."

"Would you be serious?!"

"If you tell me why it's necessary." Apparently that really pissed him off, because as soon as I said it, he picked up a rather expensive-looking fountain pen from the desk and hurled it at the wall.

An awkward lull followed.

"I need you to do me like, a _huge_ favor," he finally said, trying to contain his rage.

"I'm listening," I said, knowing that if I kept goofing around I'd end up pulling one of those fancy fountain pens out of my own skull.

He nodded gratefully at my response. Then he paused, and for a moment, I thought he wasn't actually planning on telling me about said favor. He just folded his hands in front of himself and studied his knuckles.

"So is that--" I started, but he quickly interrupted me.

"I need you to kill me, Troy," he said in the solemnest of any voice I'd ever heard.

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**This is officially the craziest story I've ever written... I think it's my favorite. And I know I said I wouldn't post until I was half-finished with it, but of course, I lied. I was in the mood for reviews this morning :D So review. When I get 8 reviews, I'll update. That shouldn't be too hard, since that's what I got for the trailer...**

x sami

**P.S. There's NO way this story's dialog is going to match up with the trailer, so bear with me :D**


	3. Chapter 2: The Sharpest Lives

"_**What Friends Are For" **_

**--Chapter 2 **(Chad's POV)

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_ Give me a shot to remember  
And you can take all the pain away from me  
Your kiss and I will surrender  
The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead_

(**My Chemical Romance**)

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"I need you to kill me," I said, not daring to blink. There was a long silence, and I could tell by the incredulous expression on Troy's face that he thought this was all just a joke.

"Wait. What?" he said.

"I know that it makes no sense. And I'm sorry for being so blunt," I began to explain. "I'm dying."

"What?" No…" he looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"My doctor's appointment today? Yeah. It was definitely _not_ muscle cramps."

"Well, what was it then?" he asked, no looking seriously panicked.

"Cancer, dude," I said as calmly as possible. "Fucking bone cancer."

"No way," he stuttered. I nodded. "And they can't… can't fix it?"

"I guess not. They said they could put me on chemo, but that the fact that I only responded to two of the tests they took to find the cancer means that it's highly improbable that any kind of treatment would work."

"'Highly improbable' means that you should at least try. If there's any chance of it working, you should… you should at least _try_."

"The chance that it could work is like, less than three percent. The treatment, which the insurance company has already told me that they won't pay for, would drain a huge part of our savings, and then I'd probably die anyways," I said.

"You're fucking rich! I don't see why you can't afford it."

"Think about it, Troy," I said. "Sharpay has no career. If I die, our savings is her only means for survival after compensations. If we spend it on a nonresponsive treatment, she's got nothing."

Troy listened to what I was telling him, a pained expression on his face the entire time. "You _just _said that she'd have compensations! She'd have plenty of money!"

"But not enough for her. She's Sharpay! Her freaking motto in life is 'live expensively!'" I exclaimed. "When I'm gone, I don't want her to be forced to live life any differently than she already does."

"But what's this about _me_ killing you?" he asked. This was the part I had most dreaded of our conversation. Telling him I'm dying is simple stuff compared to what we both knew we had coming. And I was fully aware that he wouldn't understand.

"You know Sharpay. You know that she's convinced that she's living a fairytale. She won't be satisfied unless her life is perfect."

"And her husband's murder will play right into _perfect_?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, no. But I guess I just kind of see it as being easier on her than slowly watching me die."

"I still don't get it," he said. He almost sounded angry. I wasn't prepared to cringe. "When you die, Sharpay's going to want answers. The only way she'll get those answers is if you explain all of this to her."

"I can't do that, Troy," I told him.

"And you think _I_ can kill you? You know, you're my boy Chad. You know I would do almost anything for you. But there's a fine line between almost and anything, and this is where I'm choosing to draw it," he said, trying to look me in the eye, though I wouldn't let him.

"But Troy," I said. "It doesn't have to be like that. We'll make it so no one will know it was you."

"There's no such thing as a foolproof plan, man. There's always going to be the chance I'd get caught no matter what ideas we cook up. And if that happens, what about Milo? Her mother's already dead; you think she'll be able to handle her father in jail… or worse?" I had completely forgotten about Milo in all of this, and I knew there was no reasonable answer to Troy's question.

"There would be risks…"

He cut me off.. "Yeah. _Way_ too many risks. You're crazy if you think I can do this. If you want to be crazy, fine. Be crazy. But please don't expect me to be the one that's crazy _with_ you. You'll have to find someone else." Troy stood up, beer bottle still in hand.

"There _is_ no one else. You said it yourself: We're like brothers, Troy. It's not often that a person gets to choose who kills them. But, Troy, if I could pick one person in the world to shoot me, it would be you."

"Good to know." He began to walk out of the room.

"So that's it? You're just going to leave me here?"

"You've given me no choice," he replied. "Call me when you're sane again." With that he was gone, the library door slammed behind him. I let out a breathy sigh and buried my head in my hands again.

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**So, I'm **_**really **_**sorry I haven't updated in so long. I was on vacation for three weeks.**

**_IMPORTANT_: In your reviews, please tell me what you want for the next chapter:**

**1.)Troy's POV - **at the party, then going home to Milo.

**2.) Sharpay's POV - **at the party, then dealing with Chad's depressive state over the next few weeks.

**3.) Milo's POV - **Troy comes home after the party, and stays in his bedroom for days.

**REVIEW!!**

x sami

**P.S. I updated my story blog the other day... link's in my profile if you're interested :D**


	4. Chapter 3: I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing

"_**What Friends Are For" **_

**--Chapter 3 **(Sharpay's POV)

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_I don't wanna close my eyes  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I miss you, babe  
And I don't wanna miss a thing_

(**Aerosmith**)

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I laughed as I fell flat on the floor, and my ass, which was probably quickly bruising, sent shockwaves through my spine.

"You okay, Sharpay?" someone asked from behind me. Not aware enough to figure out who was speaking, I nodded quickly, and not bothering to stand up, I leaned back so that my body was splayed across the living room floor, not caring that the dancing party guests were crushing my fingers with every step they took.

I looked up when I saw Troy's familiar red high-tops pound down the stairs.

"Troy!" I yelled, suddenly excited. He looked around the room, obviously wondering who was calling him. "Down here!" I called. He looked down to where I was still lying on the floor.

"Ugh. Sharpay, I figured you'd stop after you finished off the bottle," he groaned at me. I giggled.

"I did stop," I slurred. He gave me a skeptical look. "Okay, it was only three beers. I swear." He exasperatedly tilted his head back, walking towards me to help me up.

As he leaned down, offering his hand, I grabbed it. He pulled me up, and I stood there for about three seconds before falling flat on my ass… again.

"I think you've had enough," he announced, partially kneeling so he could pick me up. His arms slid underneath me, draping my legs over one while supporting my neck with the other. He stood back up and turned towards the stairs, leaving his beer bottle on the coffee table. He lugged my body up the long and winding staircase, grunting by the time he reached the top.

"Where to?" he asked. I had forgotten that he didn't know where my bedroom was.

"Second door on the right," I whispered, suddenly exhausted. He took a few steps forward and fumbled with the door's handle for a moment. It finally swung open, and he carried me inside the room, laying me on the bed carefully as soon as he was able to. He began to struggle with my shoes, eventually pulling the first one off. I felt my eyes close as he started to jerk my other foot around.

"Do you want me to get Chad for you?" he sighed, and I could sense a certain hostility in his voice. I slightly shook my head, and he graciously patted my calf as he began to walk away. "Good night, Sharpay," he whispered. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could utter a word, I had drifted off.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of Chad opening the bedroom door. I didn't open my eyes as I heard his footsteps come closer.

"Oh, cripe," he sighed, most likely referring to my passed-out state. "Sharpay?" he said. I mumbled something that even I couldn't understand, turning my back to him. "Sharpay, wake up!" he cried. I slowly opened my eyes, and he walked around the bed so he could face me. He crouched down to my bedside, and looked me in the eyes. "You look like crap," he murmured.

I rolled my burning eyes. "Thanks," I said.

"How long have you been out?" he asked.

"I don't know. I hardly even remember how I got up here," He reached to my bedside table and pulled the lamp cord. Bright light oozed from beneath the shade, and I grabbed a pillow to shield my face. "Turn the damn light off," I groaned.

"Not until I know you're okay. Does your head hurt?" he asked. I suddenly became aware of the fact that my head was indeed pounding.

"Yes," I mumbled from beneath the pillow.

"Take off the pillow," he commanded.

"No!" I replied.

"Sharpay, I'll turn off the light in a minute. Let me just get a look at your face."

I slowly removed the pillow, squinting my eyes closed as the harsh light reappeared.

"I need you to open your eyes for me," he said quietly.

"Are you kidding me? My head already feels like it's gonna explode!" I loudly whispered.

"Do you want to die of alcohol poisoning?" he asked. I shook my head. "Then open your damn eyes!"

I opened my eyes and immediately decided that I would have rather died of alcohol poisoning. Chad nodded his head.

"Alright, I think you're okay," he announced. I quickly shut my eyes again and placed the pillow back over my face. I heard him pull the lamp cord, but decided to keep my face smothered anyway.

"I could have told you that much," I grunted.

"You can open your eyes, you know. The light's off."

"I know," I said. "I don't trust you to keep it that way, though." He chuckled.

"I promise," he said. "The light stays off." I removed the pillow once again, and as soon as I did, Chad climbed over me, and into the bed. I turned to him.

"What time is it, anyway?" I asked.

"Four," he replied, rolling on his side so he was facing me.

"You're just now turning in?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"Yeah. I fell asleep in the library," he explained with a husky sigh.

"Oh," I replied. "Did Troy ever find you? He asked for you at the party, but he never mentioned whether or not he ended up seeing you."

Chad seemed to be trying to figure out the proper way to answer.

"Chad?" I asked again. "Did you talk to Troy last night?"

There was another pause, and finally he responded. "No. No, I never saw him," he sighed.

"Oh," I said again. "That's weird."

"I guess so. Sleep tight, babe," he said, ending the conversation.

"You too."

"Love you."

"Love you too." And we both fell asleep.

* * *

Later that morning, I opened my eyes and was immediately reminded of my night of partying. My head throbbing, I rolled over to get a look at the clock. It blinked back at me, the digits telling me that it was almost one-thirty in the afternoon. I let out a long groan and sat up to find Chad's arm draped over my waist. So he was still in bed too. He was supposed to have an interview this morning.

I reached over to shake him, but before I could touch him, his arm grabbed my wrist.

"Don't bother," he said. "I'm up.

"Why?" I asked stupidly.

"Um… because I was asleep… and now I'm awake," he said in a 'duh' tone.

"Oh, sorry. I mean, why are you still here?"

"It's Saturday, and I shouldn't have to work," he grumbled.

"Are you insane?" I asked. He lifted his head to peer up at me.

"I never thought so, but lately it seems that a lot of people think I am…" he trailed off.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"I don't know. Never mind," he muttered. I raised my eyebrow, but let it go.

"You have to work. Do you want to lose your job?" I asked him.

"My job," he said slowly, running a hand through his hair. "doesn't matter anymore."

"Why not?" I asked, aware that there was no logical answer.

"It just doesn't."

"But why?"

"It just doesn't! Gosh, stop nagging," he whined. I was taken aback by his tone.

"Why are you acting like this?" I asked. The tears that were threatening to flow made my headache even worse.

"Sorry, it's just—"

"No. Why? Is it because of last night?" I said.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I passed out. Is that why you're mad at me?" I said, swiping my hands over my eyes to get rid of the slight wetness.

"Oh, no. No, Shar. I'm not mad at you," he said, sincerely apologetic. I cocked my head to the side.

"No?"

"No. I'm just in a bad mood."

"Did you and Troy fight?" I said, remembering Troy's hesitation to get Chad the night before.

"Um, no. Not really."

"Hm. Okay. Well, if you're skipping your interview, then I say we get brunch," I suggested. He seemed to be thinking about it.

"I don't really feel like getting out of bed today, Shar. You can go get brunch if you want to, though."

"Wha—?" I stuttered. "You're just going to sit her in bed all day?"

"Is that okay with you?" He looked offended.

"Well, I don't want to spend the day alone!"

"You usually spend the day alone. If I had gone to work, you would have spent the day alone," he said like I was stupid.

"But…"

"Look, if it's such a big deal, get someone to go with you," he said, irritated.

"I want you to go with me," I whined. He pulled the blanket back over him and rolled so that his back was turned to me. I reluctantly gave up my fight and got out of bed feeling perplexed. Chad was never like this. He always looked forward to spending time with me.

I wandered out of the bedroom, slipping on my slippers and hugging my elbows to my chest. I slowly stepped down the stairs and ended up in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of aspirin from the cabinet. I took two of the pills and grabbed a glass, which I filled with ice water. As I simultaneously downed the pills and water, I heard the phone ring. I slammed my glass on the counter and ran to the other side of the kitchen, where the telephone was located. I picked it up and pressed the talk button.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sharpay. How you feelin'?" Troy's voice spoke. I sighed.

"Well, my heads banging pretty bad, but I just took some aspirin, so I should be okay," I said.

"That's good."

"Yeah, I guess," I said sadly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I replied.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

"Okay. If you're sure," he said. "How's Chad doing?"

"Ummm," I hesitated. "I guess he's fine."

"You guess?"

"Well, he's kind of pissy, but otherwise fine."

"Yeah, he was upset when I talked to him last night," Troy said carefully. I froze.

"When you talked to him last night?"

"Yeah. At the party."

"He said— Oh, never mind," I replied.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. So… What are you and Milo up to today?"

"Nothin'. Well, except for the Hannah Montana marathon that we've _got to see, _which starts at three," he said dramatically.

"Haha. She makes you sit through that stuff?"

"Every day," he sighed.

"Ha," I laughed. Milo was adorable, but… "Hey, do you guys wanna go on a date with me today?"

"A date?" He sounded confused.

"Well, brunch. I was going to go to brunch today."

"Chad can't go?"

"He's… busy," I said flatly.

"Oh. Hang on," he said. "Miles!" he called in the background. I heard him talking to Milo for a moment before he answered. "Yeah, she wants to go," he told me. I smiled.

"Great. I'll pick you guys up at two?" I suggested.

"Sure," he said.

"Okay. See you then."

"See ya."

I put the phone back on its dock and rushed back upstairs to get ready. When I threw open the bedroom door, Chad was still in bed, the covers pulled over his head. I rolled my eyes and walked into my closet, pulling out a random pink top and a black miniskirt to go with it. I laid both items carefully on the bed, and ran into the master bathroom, starting the shower.

I quickly stripped down and hopped in, though the water hadn't warmed up yet. I hurriedly washed my hair and body, not bothering to shave since I had yesterday, and I was in too much of a rush to mess with it. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I exited into the bedroom again and quickly changed into my clothes before rushing back to the bathroom, where I applied my makeup and quickly blow-dried my hair straight with a brush. I unplugged my blow dryer and walked back into my closet to grab a pair of shoes, three-inch white pumps. I snatched my purse from the dresser and walked towards the bedroom door.

"I'll be back soon," I said to Chad.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Brunch with Troy and Milo."

"Ugh. Whatever," he groaned, stuffing his head under a pillow. I huffed and slammed the door behind me. As I walked down the stairs, I fished in my purse for my car keys. Finding them, I walked across the living room, rolling my eyes at the garbage that was still flooding the room from the party. I was so thankful for maids.

I left the house and got into my car, only driving a few miles before I reached Troy and Milo's little house. I honked the horn, and a moment later, Troy stepped out, Milo in his arms bridal style. He walked down the driveway and opened the back door to my convertible, letting Milo climb out of his arms and into the backseat.

"Hey, Sharpay," she greeted as Troy shut her door and opened his, climbing in next to me.

"Where to?" he asked. I smiled.

"Hello, Troy," I said. He rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Sharpay," he replied. "Where to?"

I laughed. "IHOP good?"

"Perfect," he said.

"Hungry much?"

"Oh, shut up," he laughed.

"Language, Daddy," Milo scolded from the back. I giggled.

"Yeah, Daddy," I teased. "Watch the language."

"Oh, shut— I mean, be quiet."

"Haha. That's better," I laughed. We drove to IHOP, joking all the way.

When we got to the restaurant, the three of us got out of the car and walked inside. A waitress led us to a booth, where Milo immediately began to color on the kids place mat. We all asked for water and waited for the waitress to come back with our orders.

"Wanna play tic-tac-toe?" Milo asked me, gesturing to the tic-tac-toe boards printed on the place mat. I shrugged and took a crayon, placing a big fat x in the middle of one of the boards. Troy intently watched us complete all of the games on the mat, and when the waitress returned we ordered our food.

"So, what's Chad doing today?" Troy asked curiously.

"Well, he was supposed to have an interview with the East High varsity basketball team today, but he decided he would rather lay in bed all day," I explained. Troy seemed to gulp a bit, almost like he was nervous.

"Did he say if he was sick or not?"

"Sick?" I asked. He hadn't said anything about that. Had he? "No, I don't think so."

"Oh. Did he seem sick?" he asked. What was up with the sick questions?

"Not really. He was just kind of grumpy."

"Oh." He wrinkled his eyebrows. "Sharpay, I'm going to ask you to do something for me, and I want you to promise me you'll do it. No matter what."

"O…kay?" I said, confused.

"I want you to call me if anything ever happens with Chad. If he ever starts to get weird, and you think something's wrong, just… just call me, okay?"

"Umm… Okay. I guess." What the hell was that supposed to mean anyway? Why would something happen with Chad? Whatever.

"I'm serious. You have to promise me," he said sternly.

"Okay, okay. I promise."

"Good. Let's eat," he said as the waitress brought the round tray with all of our food on it over to us.

I shrugged and took my plate, glad that the weirded-out conversation was over.

When we were finished, he paid (he insisted on it), and I left the tip. Colby gathered her crayons and stuffed them into the pocket of her jeans. She grabbed onto my left hand and Troy's right, and led us out of the restaurant. We got to the car and I drove us all back to Troy's house, Milo prodding the entire way that she had already missed the first episode of the marathon.

"Wanna come watch with us?" Troy smiled as he and Milo got out of the car. I laughed.

"No thanks. Hannah's not quite my type," I said.

"And you think she's mine?" Troy scoffed. I shook my head as I pulled out of his driveway, waving to them before I drove down the street.

* * *

So when Chad had said he'd be in bed all day, I hadn't exactly taken his word for it. It was three-forty-five when I got home, and there he was – in bed, sound asleep. I let out a breathy sigh and kicked off my shoes. I dropped my purse on my dresser, and slowly tiptoed to the side of the bed where I'd slept the night before. I climbed in and snuggled up to him. He stirred, but stayed asleep.

I watched him for a good fifteen minutes, my sleepiness catching up to me yet again. I'd always been an easy one to get to sleep. I propped my head up on one elbow, reaching my arm out to touch him. I spent the night there, wistfully finger-tracing 'I love you's' on his bare back.

* * *

****

Eight pages. That's pretty long, right? I think it might be the longest chapter I've ever written. I'm worried that it was kind of boring, though. So tell me what you think in reviews :D

I was bored earlier, and I made a lame excuse of a poster for this story. So it's in the poster section of my profile.

x sami


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